Zainab Finds a Real Man

Introduction

This is a story about how I fell in love with my best friend's wife.

This is a slow seduction story that builds up and not a quick jump into the sack story.

***

Everything I've mentioned actually happened, however for privacy reasons, I have changed the names of those involved.

"Lucky bastard," I murmured softly.

Savio, my Goan friend sitting to my right overheard me and grinned in agreement.

We were at my friend Sohel's wedding when I saw his bride, Zainab, for the first time--as the cloth separating the couple was lifted during the Nikah ceremony.

She was stunning--sharp yet gentle features, high cheekbones, and flawless, marble like skin. Her eyes sparkled, and she had a smile so beautiful it could stop anyone in their tracks. She was in a very regal-green dress adorned with gold zardozi and looked like a princess.

She was so breathtaking, I couldn't get her out of my mind for the rest of the evening. I'm sure it was the same for many of the guys there.

Later, in the evening at the walimah, or the wedding reception, we went to greet them and hand over our gifts.

After handing my gift, I hugged Sohel and whispered in his ear "you're one lucky bastard, you know that?" making him laugh out.

Perhaps I'd said it a bit too loudly, because Zainab looked at me with a shocked look on her face, and then blushed.

"Bhabhi, do you have a sister?" I asked her, using the term for sister-in-law.

"No, sorry I don't," she smiled.

"Oh, what a pity."

After we'd finished wishing them, Sohel's brother Shoaib took us around introducing us to his family, and later of course we attacked the lavish buffet spread.

The next day, we said our goodbyes and headed back to our respective hometowns.

Back in Bangalore, I got pulled into my crazy work schedule and soon forgot all about the trip to Lucknow. Apart from the occasional forward or casual banter on our friends chat group, I didn't have much contact with Sohel.

***

About two year later, I got a call from him.

"Hey Sohel, long time. How is married life?"

"All good Samir. Look, I called to tell you that I've got a job offer in Bangalore, and I have to join in two weeks."

"Wow, that's great. Will be good to have you in the same city."

"Yes, bhai."

"So, we're going to stay in a serviced apartment for a few weeks, until we find a good flat."

"Like hell you're staying in a serviced apartment. You're going to stay at my place till you find a flat," I replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. It'll be good to have some company. It gets quite boring when I return from work."

"Hmmm. Okay, thanks a lot. I'll keep you updated on our plans."

*** Two weeks later ***

Sohel and Zainab arrived at my flat quite late on Sunday evening after a three hour flight and an almost two hours cab ride from the airport.

I embraced my friend and bowed down slightly for Zainab.

"Welcome to my home bhabhi. Please consider it your own home. It is at your disposal for as long as you like," I told her. I knew I didn't have to be formal with my pal.

"Thank you, bhaijaan," said Zainab, with an adab.

This was only the second time I was seeing Zainab, and she looked even more stunning than I remembered, in a natural look without all the wedding makeup.

She was in a lemon yellow salwar kameez and a sky blue hijab that covered her head only partially, leaving some of her soft brown hair uncovered. She was about five and a half feet tall, with a slim frame and full, medium-sized breasts. The more I looked at her, the more I felt envious of my friend.

I showed them their room and excused myself so they could freshen up.

About an hour later, we were seated in the living room. Zainab was still in her hijab, but I didn't mind because I knew she was not supposed to take it off in front of a non-mahram (non-family).

I would normally have offered a whiskey to Sohel which I knew was his favourite drink, but was not sure about Zainab's views on drinking alcohol, so I got some iced tea for all of us.

"So, it's great to see you again," I said.

"Many thanks for letting us stay in our home, bhaijaan," Zainab said, I bit formally.

"Bhabhi, this is the front door key," I said, handing her the duplicate.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Please don't keep saying that, you are embarrassing me, Sohel and I go way back. This is your home too--no formalities, please."

She smiled. "Sohel always said you're more like a brother to him."

"Yes, bhabhi," I nodded.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Oh, that must be the food I ordered," I said, getting up.

"You ordered from outside?" asked Zainab.

"Yes, Bhabhi."

"So do you eat outside food very often? That's not healthy at all."

"Only now and then. Maybe a couple of times a week. My cook has a limited menu, so it gets a bit boring," I said, transferring the food from the plastic containers into serving bowls.

"This won't do, bhaijaan. You need to get married," she said with a playful shake of her head.

"That's why I asked you at your wedding if you had a sister!" I grinned.

"Yes, I remember. Don't worry, I have many beautiful cousins. I'm sure you'll find one of them compatible with you," she said with a smile.

"Thank you. If you'd told me that day, I'd have extended my stay in Lucknow," I joked.

"Oh, don't worry. One of them is going to be visiting me once we find a nice house and settle down. I'll introduce you to her then."

Sohel, who'd been quietly listening, jumped in. "Yeah, yeah, introduce him to someone. But be warned--he had a new girlfriend every two months in college."

"Really?" Zainab asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

"No, he's exaggerating."

"Well, two that I know of. Aisha and Zeenat from the girl's college nearby. And maybe a few others..." Sohel added, smirking."

"Aisha wasn't even from the girls' college--she was two years senior to us in our own college."

"Still counts," Sohel grinned.

"Older, hmmm? So, you like older women?" Zainab teased.

"No, no, Bhabhi! It's not like that at all," I laughed, giving Sohel a playful slap on the head. "He's just trying to ruin my reputation!"

"Oh wow, someone has quite the history," Zainab teased. "What about Sohel? Did he have any girlfriends?"

"No, he didn't. He was the good boy in the group."

"I don't believe that. Are you just covering up for your friend?"

I laughed, and Zainab shook her head, smiling.

"Okay, okay," she smiled. "Let's eat before the food gets cold."

Once we sat down and started dinner, Zainab looked up and said, "Tell me the story about those crazy guys."

"Which crazy guys?"

"About a fight you both had with some crazy guys. Sohel's brother told me that Sohel once got attacked by four guys and you guys fought them off."

"Oh that one. We'd all gone out after our third year exams. Sohel got into a scrap with some drunkards over something. I don't even know what the issue was. We had gone to one fast food restaurant. While I was standing in line to collect our food, I heard a commotion and saw these four guys attacking Sohel." I asked him.

The actual story was a bit different from what I told her. The scrap had actually happened in a pub and Sohel had been drunk, which I didn't want to tell her. I was at the bar ordering our next round of drinks when Sohel got into an argument with the guys at the next table over them talking too loudly. The argument escalated quickly, resulting in them attacking him.

"Oh no. But why did they attack you, Sohel?" asked Zainab.

"They were drunk and looking for a fight. It could have been anyone."

"And then what happened?"

"I heard the commotion and rushed over," I said. "somewhere during all that, one of them pulled out a knife and stabbed Sohel. Then they all took off. We had to rush him to a hospital--thankfully, it was close by. The staff were very helpful."

"You forgot to mention that you tackled two of them before they ran," Sohel added, turning to me.

"Tackled meaning?" asked Zainab.

"He practices MMA. So he was able to tackle two of them. Otherwise, I would have been done for," replied Sohel.

"Alhamdulillah. Thank God," Zainab said, her voice soft.

"Yes. I was bleeding so heavily, I would have died. Samir saved my life that day."

"Actually, my dad's a doctor," I added. "Luckily, he made me do a first aid course one summer, so I knew to apply pressure and control the bleeding. And thankfully, none of the major organs were affected."

"Thank you for helping Sohel," said Zainab.

I gave her a small smile and nodded.

"Hmmm... so you can fight as well as save lives? My cousins are definitely going to fall for you when they hear this story," she said with a teasing smile.

"Well, I hope so," I grinned.

She laughed.

"So what's the plan tomorrow?" I asked.

"Tomorrow I have to report to my new office at 9 o'clock. What time do you leave for work?"

"Same. I need to be at work by 9 too. But I'm lucky--my office is just a 10-minute walk from here."

"Wow, you're so lucky to have an office so close. How long do you think it will take me to get to Electronic City?" asked Sohel.

"E-city is a one-hour drive from here. You can take my car. I usually walk to office."

"One hour?" Sohel asked, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"Yup. Welcome to Bangalore," I chuckled. "You'll get used to it."

"Thanks, buddy. That's very nice of you."

After dinner, we hung around chatting for a bit while Zainab watched her serial on TV. Once it ended, she and Sohel retired to the guest bedroom, and I stayed back at the dining table with my laptop to finish some pending work.

"Such a relief to take off this hijab. I've been wearing it since 6 o'clock in the morning," I faintly overheard Zainab saying, through the closed bedroom door.

"You know you have to wear it," replied Sohel.

"Yes, but Samir is like your brother. Do I really need to wear it in front of him too?"

"Yes."

Not wanting to overhear any more, and needing to focus anyway, I picked up my laptop and moved to my room, shutting the door behind me to continue working in peace.

***

The next few days were quite uneventful. Sohel and I got into our work routines, leaving for work in the morning and getting back around 6-7 o'clock in the evening.

Zainab would be at home, researching apartments to rent, on the internet, and talking to the owners. Like most women, she was very exacting, so by Friday, she had shortlisted only a few places.

She also took over the kitchen, even though I told her she need not bother because my cook would cook all our meals.

But she insisted. "What else will I do all day?" she said. "I can't just sit and watch TV. And I'm pretty sure I can cook better than your cook anyway."

"Thank you. I hope the cook learns a few recipes from you," I replied.

"Don't worry, I'll teach her."

"Thank you."

I was quite bored of the cook's repetitive meals, so was quite glad that she would be learning some new recipes from Zainab. I was looking forward to some delicious Lukhnowi food.

And Zainab didn't disappoint. She was a fantastic cook. It had been a while since I'd eaten anything close to that kind of homemade flavour. It was a welcome break from the usual fare.

They had planned to check out the shortlisted apartments on the weekend, but on Friday, Sohel announced that the workload at his new office was really heavy and he would need to work over the weekend as well.

"Oh no, Sohel. Then how will we finalise the apartment?" Zainab asked, visibly disappointed. "I've already scheduled to see a few apartments with the owners tomorrow."

"What can I do, Zainab? I happen to have joined in the middle of a project and the person before me left abruptly, leaving the project hanging. I'm expected to get it back on track."

"So what about the appointments I have fixed for tomorrow with the apartment owners?" asked Zainab, looking annoyed.

"Samir, I know you have already done so much for us so I feel embarrassed to ask you. But would you be able to take Zainab to see the apartments?"

"Yes, of course. I don't have anything tomorrow," I replied.

"Why don't you go with Samir? He knows his way around Bangalore also, so will be able to give the right advise on which area is the best to stay in."

Zainab responded with just an "Okay."

"Don't worry Bhabhi, I know my way around quite well, and I'm also a safe driver," I told her with a smile.

"I'm sorry, Bhaijaan. Please don't misunderstand. I'm so grateful to you for all your help," she replied.

"Don't worry," I assured her.

The next day, we set out early on our apartment-hunt, while Sohel went to office by cab.

We saw four apartments in the first half, none of which were to Zainab's liking. By lunch-time, we were both quite tired and headed to the food court in a mall for a quick lunch, after which we could resume our apartment search. While we were at the table, Zainab continued to call apartment owners, to setup appointments, but all of them seemed to be free only after 4 o'clock.

"Wow, Bangaloreans, really like their afternoon siesta. So what do we do till 4?" she said.

"We could watch a movie, or go bowling. They're both right here. The multiplex is on the fourth floor, and the bowling in on the third floor. Whichever you want."

"Let's go bowling," Zainab said.

We headed to the third floor, bought the tickets and spent the next two hours bowling and playing the other games like foosball and air hockey.

We had a great time, and Zainab finally loosened up, laughing and giggling freely. She had been quite formal till now, so this change was refreshing. I'd started to think she might be one of those strikingly beautiful women who are so self-conscious of their looks that conversations with them tend to be dull or one-sided. But she turned out to be a lot of fun and surprisingly down-to-earth--quick to laugh, sharp with her comebacks, and never missing a chance to tease me if I threw a gutter ball or failed to defend my goal.

Once the teasing started--her mocking me for a gutter ball, and me throwing the banter right back--everything changed. She was sharp, playful, and full of energy. The two hours flew by, and before we knew it, it was time to get back to the apartment hunt.

"Thank you," said Zainab, when we were in the car, heading towards the first apartment.

"What for?"

"For such a fun time. It's been so long since I had real fun like this. I used to go bowling with my friends before marriage, but now it's all stopped."

"You're welcome, Bhabhi. You can tell me whenever you want to go bowling. I will convince Sohel also."

Zainab had been formal and reserved until now, but something shifted after our time at the games centre. She was suddenly more relaxed--laughing, giggling, even humming along to the songs on the radio. Her energy was lighter, warmer, and I found myself enjoying her company far more than I had before.

We finally got back home at about seven o'clock, and Zainab retreated to her room. She did not come out until Sohel was back at about nine, after which we all had dinner and retired for the day.

Sunday went quite similar to Saturday. Sohel left for office, while Zainab and I continued with our apartment search. For lunch, we went to the same mall and thereafter hit the games center for some games.

By the time we got back in the evening after seeing more apartments, we were no closer to finalising one than when we had started. From that angle, the weekend had been a bit of a letdown, though I didn't feel that way--I'd genuinely enjoyed spending time with Zainab. We'd developed a good rapport, and a good unspoken understanding.

The following week went quite similar. Sohel and I would head to office in the morning, while Zainab did her homework on finding apartments.

I was enjoying Zainab's company, so I made it a point to started coming home a bit early around 5 -- 6 o'clock, so I could get some time to chat with her before Sohel got back.

She was quite surprised when I offered to help in the kitchen and refused at first, but relented after I insisted. I helped her with simple tasks like washing and chopping vegetables, and generally followed her instructions.

It helped me to learn some recipes also, which I jotted down in a notebook.

Sohel had to go to work the next weekend as well. His new company really seemed to be squeezing him for work.

So on Saturday morning, Zainab and I went apartment hunting again, while Sohel went to office.

We continued with the same routine of apartment hunting in the morning, followed by lunch and games, and then apartment hunting again.

By about 7 o'clock, we were done with our list of apartments for the day, and were on our way back, when Zainab's phone rang.

"What? I can't believe this, Sohel. You won't be home even for dinner?" she spoke into the phone.

Then there was a long pause, while Sohel was speaking, after which Zainab said, "How late, Sohel?"

"So where will you have your dinner?" she asked into the phone.

"Okay," she said after another pause and hung up.

"He says he will be very late. Maybe even 1-2 o'clock," she told me, irritated.

"It's okay. Something important must have come up," I said.

"Something important always comes up."

"He's in an important position in his..." I said and stopped when she gestured to me to stop talking and started staring out of the window.

I didn't say anything more, not wanting to wade into their personal issues.

After a couple of minutes of driving in silence, she asked me, "Can we eat out today?"

"Uhhh...sure. I know a nice restaurant nearby. I think you'll love the food there," I replied.

"Okay," I said, and turned the car towards a popular restaurant and pub close to where we were.

We were early, so the restaurant was still quite empty and we got a table easily.

A short while after we had settled in, the waiter came with two menus, one for food and the other for drinks.

"Please let me know when you are ready to place your order," he said before stepping away.

"So, what would you like to have?" I asked, handing her the food menu.

She quickly scanned through the menu and said, "It's the same old regular stuff. What's in the other menu?"

"This is the liquor menu," I told her.

"Okay, let me look at it," she said, reaching out her hand.

"Bhabhi..." I said, not sure of what to say.

"My name is Zainab, so call me Zainab."

"Yes, Bhabhi," I said.

"Zzz-aaiii-nnn-aaa-bbb," she said, like a school teacher tutoring a pupil on how to pronounce a difficult word, and smiled.

"Yes, Zainab," I smiled.

"Now, give me the liquor menu," she said.

"I thought you would not be interested," I said, handing it to her.

"What do you suggest I should have? Something that will not smell so much?" she asked, after studying it for some time.

"Have you had any alcohol before?"

"Once. At my friend's birthday party during college."

"What did you have?"

"Vodka. With orange juice."

"Okay, did you like it?" I asked curiously.

"It was okay. I got a buzz, and after that I felt very sleepy."

"That's called a screwdriver cocktail," I said.

"What's a cocktail?" she said with a mischievous giggle.

"It's an alcohol mixed with a soft drink or a juice to sweeten it. You could have the same, if you liked it the last time."

"Fine, I will have that. Then I can also tighten the loose screw in your head," she joked.

I ordered a screwdriver for Zainab, and a whiskey for myself, along with some snacks.

Zainab took a sip of her drink and said, "This is nice."

Before I had taken 2 sips, Zainab had already downed her screwdriver.

"Go slow, Zainab. Or else you're going to get drunk."

"Sorry, I was really thirsty. And this tasted so good," she said and giggled.